MacGyver's Interest
by Deliwiel
Summary: MacGyver gets sent to New York on a recon mission by himself, while Jack is forced to stay behind with an injured ankle. The mission turns deadly and MacGyver ends up running and fighting for his life. A stranger comes along to help, and if they work together, maybe MacGyver stands a chance. Takes place before the series starts, there is no Nikki. Just Mac, Jack, and John Reese
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, so Tamuril2 gave me some prompts a long time ago, and one of them was to do a crossover with MacGyver and Person of Interest! I finally got around to writing it, and it is done! All the chapters will be posted basically at once, let me know what you think!**_

 _ **Tamuril2 and I also thought that it would be cool to have the story told from both perspectives, so the first few chapters will be from Mac's perspective, then the last few will be from John's :)**_

 _ **Okay, so for you MacGyver fans who don't know POI, only-some-loser asked for a brief explanation of what it was, and I just thought I'd also include it in this if you really want to read this story so you can keep up :)**_

 _ **There are several Characters to start out with:**_

 _ **John Reese: Ex-CIA agent, presumed dead by the gov't, very good at hand-to-hand combat, doesn't like killing people, but since he kinda has to use a gun, he shoots out people's knees instead of killing them once he starts working with Finch.**_

 _ **Harold Finch: Eccentric Billionaire, also presumed dead, very good hacker**_

 _ **Shaw: Ex-gov't agent, sociopath**_

 _ **Detective Carter: NYPD Homicide Det.**_

 _ **Detective Fusco: NYPD Homicide Det.**_

 _ **So the basic plot is Harold Finch created a machine that basically listens in on all conversations through any electronic device (so basically what everyone is scared and convinced the NSA does), and he programmed the machine to detect the probability of violence against someone by listening to conversations, stuff like that, etc. The Government uses The Machine to detect national threats, like terrorism and such, but anything else was disregarded, deemed irrelevant. Except Finch's conscience wouldn't let him live with the fact that innocent people were dying/getting hurt and he might have been able to do something to stop it, so he recruited John Reese, who is presumed dead to help him save people.**_

 _ **Basically what happens when The Machine deems something as a potential "irrelevant" case, it contacts Finch and gives him a Social Security number, but nothing else. Finch and John don't know if the person is the perpetrator or the victim, so they follow them around until they can decide which one they are. Detective Carter was trying to catch John, but when she found out what he and Finch were doing, she felt like she couldn't bring them in (Okay, that's a really bad explanation of that, but it's kinda complicated to explain), and Detective Fusco was working with a group of dirty cops that tried to have Reese killed, but Fusco really didn't have his heart in it, so John basically blackmails Fusco into helping he and Finch for a little while, then Fusco realizes he likes it when he helps prevent crimes instead of trying to solve the murder cases.**_

 _ **Reese takes on a lot of different roles and jobs to get him closer to their numbers.**_

 _ **Shaw comes in and she's basically a sociopath, but she's basically like a female version of John.**_

 _ **So they run around NY and find whoever The Machine tells them to find, and they try to prevent a crime from happening.**_

 _ **They also have a dog named Bear, and John is known as "The Man in the Suit," since he's basically a vigilante, but no one can get a good picture of his face.**_

 _ **If there are any POI fans out there who don't know what/who MacGyver and friends are, let me explain**_

 _ **MacGyver: In the reboot, he's former EOD for the army, now he works for a covert government organization called the Phoenix Foundation. It's cover is a government think-tank, but they're really spies basically. MacGyver takes ordinary objects around him and turns them into weapons that don't kill, because he doesn't like it when people die, and he doesn't like using guns**_

 _ **Jack Dalton: Mac's best friend, partner, and bodyguard basically. Also works for the Phoenix Foundation**_

 _ **Patricia Thornton: Director of the Phoenix Foundation, queen of spies and totally amazing. Cares very much for her team. *coughcoughwriterscoughcough***_

 _ **So there you have it! Let me know what you think!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here is chapter 1! :D**_

 _ **Neither of these wonderful shows belong to me :(**_

"Jack, go home," MacGyver insisted as he and his friend neared the airstrip. "There's not much you can do on a busted ankle, and Thornton said that this mission is a simple recon one," he continued. The bright sun in California glinted off the small plane that was going to be taking MacGyver to New York City. "I go in, I look and observe, gather any information I can without engaging anyone, then come home. Fifteen hours tops," he promised. His partner looked at him skeptically.

"When is anything ever simple with you?" he quipped.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jack," Mac shot back at his friend. "You know I can take care of myself, right?"

"I don't doubt your abilities to take care of yourself, Mac," Jack assured the young man. "I just don't feel comfortable with you going somewhere and not having me along for backup!"

"I know," Mac said. "But it's only this one mission. And you really shouldn't even be on that ankle right now," he pointed out, staring down at his friend's wrapped ankle. "The doctors are gonna have your hide if they find out you came out here with me."

Jack blew out a breath of air in amusement. "Please. They don't scare me," he said.

"Not even Margaret?" Mac asked, raising his eyebrows at his friend. Margaret was a large-statured woman, who didn't take crap from anyone, and everyone knew it. She was usually the one they sent to wrangle MacGyver back into his hospital bed when he would escape the room, and even though Jack was loathe to admit it, she did intimidate him.

"That woman would scare even the meanest terrorists," Jack huffed.

"So why would you risk her wrath by being up on that ankle?" MacGyver asked in a light tone. "Just go home and rest," he ordered gently, holding up his hand before Jack was able to protest. "I'll keep in touch, I promise."

Jack didn't look happy, but after a few moments, he nodded. "Fine. But check in with me at least every two hours," he instructed, pointing menacingly at his young friend. MacGyver chuckled.

"Yes mom," he snarked back.

"I'm not even taking that as an insult," Jack called out as MacGyver turned and walked towards the plane. "As long as you stay alive I will continue to 'mom' you!"

MacGyver laughed, turning around briefly to wave at his friend before boarding the plane. He sat down in the seat he was directed to. It was the aisle seat, next to an older gentleman who was already out like a light, snoring lightly. Mac leaned forward slightly to look out the window at his friend, who was still standing there with a doubtful look on his face. The plane began taxiing down the runway, and MacGyver leaned back in his seat, preparing himself for the long flight.

 _0-0-0_

 _*1 hour earlier*_

 _MacGyver walked into his house, throwing his keys on the counter. Bozer was gone for the weekend, so he and Jack had the whole house to themselves. Jack was sitting on the couch, watching a football game on TV as Mac set down the groceries._

" _Hey," Jack called out, swinging his foot off the pillow and making a move like he was going to get up._

" _Hey," Mac replied. "Stay there," he ordered as he saw his friend wince in pain when his ankle had a tiny bit of weight applied to it._

" _I'm fine!" Jack insisted. He tried to stand up once again, but his face lost all its color and he gently lowered himself back to the couch and propped his ankle back up. "Okay, maybe I'll stay here," he conceded._

 _MacGyver grabbed a box he had also brought in, holding it out. "Hungry?" he asked._

 _Jack's face lit up as he smelled the tantalizing pizza. "You have to ask?"_

 _MacGyver brought the pizza box over and opened it up, putting two large slices on a plate and handing it over to his friend._

" _How's the ankle?" MacGyver asked after a few minutes of silence as they both devoured the pizza and watched the game._

" _I'm going crazy," Jack admitted. "I hate not being able to do anything."_

" _I guess that'll teach you not to jump down the last few flights of stairs trying to catch a fleeing terrorist," Mac teased. "I was like, ten seconds away from finding a way to stop him," he added. Jack snorted._

" _Yeah, and by the time those ten seconds had gone by, he would have been long gone and you would have had to think of an entirely new plan," Jack pointed out. "It was the quickest way to do it," he insisted. MacGyver rolled his eyes slightly, but he knew his friend and partner was only doing his job._

 _There was silence for a few more minutes, then Mac's phone began buzzing. He glanced down at the caller ID in confusion. "Hey Thornton," he greeted. He listened in on the other end of the line as his boss explained what was going on._

" _Mac, there's something I need you to do for me," Patricia said. Her voice sounded a little weird, but Mac shrugged it off, knowing she had been under a lot of stress lately. It was probably just making her voice sound a little higher than it actually was. He knew from experience that stress could do that to you._

" _What is it?"_

" _We received word that Frederick Fischer is coming into New York. I need you to go scope out the area, do a little bit of recon and find out what the situation is like. I'm assembling a team to pick him up, but they won't be ready for another few hours. If you can get there and get us a report of the layout of the land, the mission will go that much smoother," she explained._

" _Sure," Mac said, only hesitating slightly. Something didn't feel right, but he brushed it off, thinking it was just because he wasn't going to have Jack around._

" _I need you to be ready to leave in thirty minutes," Thornton instructed. "Can you do that?"_

" _Yeah," Mac assured his boss. "Is it just going to be me?" he clarified._

" _I'm sorry," Thornton said. "It has to be one person only, otherwise you'll draw too much attention to yourself before the team gets there."_

" _Understood," Mac responded._

" _Your flight leaves in thirty minutes," Thornton repeated. "The mission shouldn't take longer than a few hours, and when the second team gets there, you're free to come home."_

" _Got it," Mac replied. "I'm on my way." He hung up the phone and looked at Jack, who was staring at him with narrow eyes._

" _What was that about?" he asked suspiciously._

" _I've got to go," Mac said with an apologetic look. "Apparently Frederick Fischer is coming into the country and they need someone to scope the area out before the team gets there to bring him in."_

" _Frederick Fischer?" Jack asked. "That German scientist who allegedly has been contracted by another country to construct a chemical weapon?"_

 _MacGyver nodded as he got up and picked up a third slice of pizza before grabbing the keys to his jeep._

" _Mac, you can't go alone!" Jack insisted as he made to stand up again. He actually made it to his feet this time and blocked the front door so Mac couldn't get out without stopping. MacGyver looked in annoyance at his older partner. "Besides," Jack pointed out. "Why are they sending you as simple recon? You're usually part of the retrieval team, aren't you?"_

" _Jack, you can barely walk!" Mac pointed out in exasperation. "Besides, Thornton said that it can only be one person, otherwise it'll be too conspicuous. And I'm assuming it's because you're not going with me that they're having me do the recon instead."_

 _Jack grabbed the crutches propped against the wall and followed MacGyver out as the young man gently pushed past him and walked out the front door. "That makes absolutely no sense," Jack argued. Jack hopped his way to Mac's car._

" _What are you doing?" MacGyver asked as Jack got into the passenger side of the jeep._

" _I'm coming with you to the airport," Jack stated as he buckled himself in, then folded his arms across his chest in a sign of refusal to move. MacGyver wanted to argue with him, but time was running out and he knew he had to be on the plane when it left if they wanted any sort of chance to catch the German scientist. He finally got in the driver's side and started his jeep, pulling out of his driveway and driving towards the airport._

 _0-0-0_

MacGyver stepped off the plane into the crowded New York City airport, making his way down the escalator.

" _One of the nice things about having missions like this is you don't have to have any sort of luggage. You don't have to worry about the hassle of trying to figure out which suitcase is yours, don't have to worry that someone is going to steal it from you...it's actually really nice."_

Mac strolled past the luggage carousel and strode out the sliding doors. Thornton had texted him the address of the building where Fischer was supposed to be. He hailed a taxi, and when one finally pulled to the curb, he slid into the back seat and gave the driver the address. They pulled out into the busy streets of New York, and Mac settled back in his seat, pulling out his phone and shooting a quick text to Jack. He had checked in with his partner once on the airplane, but hadn't done so since then.

" _I'm fine, don't worry,"_ he typed out. He hit send, and less than a minute later Jack responded.

" _Two hours, Mac. We agreed every two hours."_

" _Jack, I was on a plane!"_

" _Excuses, excuses. Be careful, and keep track of the time this time!"_

MacGyver sighed quietly as he shut off his phone and stuck it back in his pocket.

" _I know Jack means well. I actually appreciate how concerned he is about me, but sometimes his mother-henning can get a little overwhelming."_

"Everything okay?" the taxi driver asked, looking back into the rearview mirror. Mac glanced up in slight surprise. The driver's voice was softer than he was expecting. The man had salt and pepper hair, and his features, though they weren't strikingly sharp, were rather prominent. He was also wearing a suit. " _I mean, who wears a suit when they're driving a taxi around New York? Though, I guess people could ask the same thing about me, my leather jacket, and the California heat, so who am I to judge?"_

"Yeah, just fine," Mac assured him.

"So what brings you to New York? Business or pleasure?"

"Business, unfortunately," Mac replied. The man didn't say anything after that, but a few minutes later they pulled up to the front of a rather despondent looking building. MacGyver made sure they were at the right address as the driver put the cab into park, then Mac handed up a $20 bill. "Keep the change," he said as he got out of the car.

"Don't work too hard," the driver replied in his surprisingly quiet voice as he accepted the money. Mac smiled at the man, then shut the car door and walked towards the old building.

" _The text said Fischer was supposed to be coming in at three,"_ he thought to himself as he looked at the watch on his wrist. The hands indicated that it was about a quarter till then, so Mac settled himself against the wall, waiting.

MacGyver watched a few cars go by, but he was in a rather secluded spot of the city. He glanced around, trying to find Fischer. He was leaning against a brick wall, partially hidden by the shadows, so he figured as long as he busied himself with his phone, he wouldn't look too suspicious. He fiddled around on his phone for a few minutes, then glanced at his watch. It was 3:20; where was Fischer? He pushed himself off the wall a little and wandered down the street a little ways. Seeing nothing, he walked back to his original hiding spot, deciding he'd better let Thornton know what was going on. As he was pulling out his cell phone, he was too distracted to notice the red dot trained on the front of his shirt.

 _ **Thoughts? Don't kill me because of the cliffhanger please!**_


	3. Chapter 3

MacGyver opened his phone, but before he could do anything else, something, or someone, barreled into him from the side, knocking him to the ground and crushing his phone beneath them. A split-second later, a shot rang out and a bullet embedded itself into the brick wall, right behind where Mac's head had been. MacGyver glanced around frantically as he tried to figure out what was going on, but as he was trying to find the perch of the sniper, a hand grabbed the back of his collar and hauled him to his feet. He was dragged behind a dumpster right as another gunshot echoed around the alley.

MacGyver looked at the person who had saved him and did a double take. "You were...the taxi driver?" he asked in confusion.

The older man was holding a gun, peeking his head slightly around the corner while holding MacGyver back to protect him from the men trying to kill him. The taxi driver ignored the young man and started speaking.

"Finch, I definitely don't think this kid is the perp," he muttered. MacGyver stared in confusion at the man who had driven him throughout New York.

"Wait, who are you?" he asked.

"Concerned third party," the man replied, a bit distractedly. "Come on," he said, standing up and gently pushing MacGyver towards a fire escape. "We need to get out of sight." They started climbing up, while the man constantly glanced behind them with his gun held up.

MacGyver followed the man, still confused about what was happening. They climbed several flights of the fire escape until the man stopped MacGyver.

"Hold on," he said. "We need to get out of the open," he explained as MacGyver glanced back at him. Scanning their surrounding area one last time to make sure the coast was clear, he slipped his gun into the back of his waistband and pulled on the window they were next to.

MacGyver kept a lookout while the older man pulled out a lock-picking set and got to work unlocking the window. As soon as the window clicked open, the man cursed quietly.

"There's a screen," he muttered. MacGyver couldn't tell if he was speaking to him or the "Finch" person. Mac didn't care at the moment; he simply walked over to the window and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. He sliced through the screen, just enough that the two men were able to slip through.

"So are you gonna tell me your name?" MacGyver whispered as the man came into the room behind him. Mac glanced around the room, making sure that there was no one in the building. Thankfully it was empty, but Mac still felt uneasy as he looked around their surroundings.

"John," the taxi driver finally said as he walked briskly towards the door.

"I'm MacGyver, but I have the strange feeling you already knew that," Mac commented as John quietly opened the door and peered out in the hallway. John didn't reply as he looked both ways before he motioned for Mac to follow him. The two of them carefully crept down the hall, past an elevator and towards the staircase. They were almost to the stairway door when it was flung open and six men poured out, each one training a large gun on MacGyver and John.

"Elevator," John instructed curtly as he pulled out his own gun, which seemed rather small in comparison to their pursuer's weapons.

MacGyver ducked and zigzagged towards the elevator as shots rang out all around him. He heard cries of pain, but he couldn't tell if it was John or the other men. He glanced back to see if he could do anything to help after he hit the call button for the elevator. The sight that greeted him was an odd one. Three of the men were on the ground, clutching at their legs in agony while the others were hiding around the corners, firing shots when they saw openings. After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator finally dinged and the doors opened.

"John!" Mac called out, ducking into the elevator. John spared a glance back towards the elevator and quickly backed in next to Mac, who kept pressing the "close doors" button as soon as John was inside. As the elevator doors slid closed, one of the men in the hallway raised his gun and fired off a shot before the doors blocked them off.

"I gotta say," John commented, pushing the P1 button for the elevator. "You're handling being targeted very well." When the young man only grunted in reply, John turned around to look at his new companion. "You were hit?" he asked suddenly as he observed the red stain spreading on Mac's upper arm. MacGyver gripped it tightly, trying to get the bleeding to stop.

"I'm fine," Mac insisted. "It's just a scratch."

John was about to reply when the elevator shuddered and then lurched to a stop. The two men gazed up towards the ceiling, a sinking feeling in both of their stomachs.

"Finch?" John asked, glancing up towards the camera in the corner of the elevator. "What's going on?"

MacGyver watched the man with interest, barely noticing the clear colored earpiece in John's ear. He honestly wouldn't have noticed it if it weren't for the fact that he was looking for something that was letting John communicate with whoever this "Finch" person was. John seemed to be listening, his face taking on a disgruntled expression.

"Well, can you get it moving and get the doors open?" He asked in a patient but in a more-than-slightly-strained voice. John glanced at Mac, who had busied himself by peeling open the panel to the elevator's wiring system. Mac blew out a huff of air, frustrated as he saw the tangled mess of wires.

"Well, they certainly managed to make this more difficult," Mac muttered. He reached out and started fiddling with the wires, wincing as his wounded arm stretched out.

"Make it more difficult?" John asked. "That looks a little bit more than 'difficult,'" he pointed out.

"Well, they pulled all the wires out of their place, but they didn't destroy them, at least not completely; I just need to connect the right wires and I should be able to get the door open," Mac explained as he examined the wires. "The trick is figuring out which wire goes where."

John was about to respond when the elevator shuddered and dropped a few feet. "How fast can you do that?" he asked the young man.

"It shouldn't take too long," Mac said, reaching in and grabbing a few wires.

"I don't know if we have that much time," John said as the elevator shuddered once again. "Finch?"

Mac glanced back at the man. "Who is Finch?" he asked as he started sorting the different wires.

"He's-" John was cut off as the elevator groaned. "Let's save introductions for later," he suggested. "Finch, if you can do anything to get the doors open, now would be the time to do it," he said, glancing up at the camera.

"Got it!" MacGyver said, hitting two wires together. The doors slid open, revealing their next dilemma. The elevator was caught in between two floors. The two men stared out the door, each one going through their list of options. Mac cautiously crept closer to the opening. "Think we could crawl down?" he asked, looking back at John. The older man opened his mouth and was about to respond when the elevator convulsed again.

"We're about to find out!" MacGyver heard John grunt right before he rammed himself into the blond. The two of them tumbled out of the elevator doors and crashed to the ground outside. Mac was winded, but he sat up and watched with wide eyes as the elevator they had been in only seconds before plummeted to the bottom of the shaft. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the doors, which were still open.

A massive crash echoed throughout the empty shaft, and MacGyver shook himself out of the petrified feeling he had.

" _There's a reason I don't like heights. It's because 99% of the time, what goes up_ has _to come down. And when something is heavy, it gains more momentum as it falls, making the landing much harder than I feel is necessary."_

Mac glanced up, seeing the elevator cables swinging in the shaft. He could clearly see the uneven, jagged ends of the steel cables. He turned back to John.

"Someone cut through the cables," he said, pointing towards the shaft. John came over and looked as well.

"Best way to go is down," he said in his quiet voice. He led Mac down the hallway cautiously, checking the stairwells again before letting the young blond start down the stairs behind him.

"Are you going to tell me what it is you do?" Mac asked. John looked back at him.

"I help people," he stated simply. "What about you?" he asked, turning the conversation onto MacGyver before the young man could press anymore. "You work at a government think-tank, but I'm thinking you do more than sit around and talk about the economy and ways to improve social well-being," he remarked.

"Really?" Mac asked sarcastically. "What gave it away? The mercenaries trying to kill us?" John looked back at Mac again, eyebrows raised at him. "Sorry," Mac said. "I forgot for a minute that you're not my partner, Jack. My work...It's...complicated," he finally said.

"You don't say," John muttered. MacGyver chuckled, glad that he hadn't offended the man. They hurried down the rest of the stairs in silence, coming to the parking garage a few minutes later. "Finch, we're in the parking garage, east side," John muttered as the two of them walked in between the cars. "Good, we'll be on the lookout for her."

"Who?" Mac asked.

"A friend," John replied. Mac rolled his eyes, but decided not to say anything about the man's deliberately vague answers. John suddenly held out his arm, stopping MacGyver in his tracks. "Something's not right," he muttered. MacGyver didn't comment; he recognized the man's stance as ex-military, maybe some sort of government agency, so he knew well enough not to doubt the man's instincts. "Get down!" John suddenly ordered, turning and shoving MacGyver's shoulders so the young man was pushed to the ground. John pulled out his gun and fired two shots, and Mac heard groans coming from behind them.

Mac immediately pulled on the handle of the car door he was crouched behind, grateful that it was unlocked. He crawled into the seat as gunshots continued to echo throughout the parking garage. One shattered the back window of the car he was in, and he covered his head to shield it from the falling glass. With one hand still covering his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife once more. He opened it and jammed it into the dash in front of the passenger seat, prying off the top section and revealing the white nylon airbag inside.

MacGyver yanked the airbag tight, then took the blade of his Swiss Army Knife and cut the fabric right under his hand, preventing the contents of the bag from spilling out. He lunged out of the car, bringing the airbag up in front of him. "John, cover your mouth!" he yelled. MacGyver himself took in a deep breath of air before grabbing the airbag from the opposite end of where he was currently grabbing it and swung it around, releasing the chemicals from the bag into the air, directly into the faces of the men attacking them. While their attackers were busy trying to clear their lungs of the infested air they had just breathed in, John and MacGyver simultaneously reached out to grab the other's arm and drag them away. They began running through the garage towards the nearest exit.

"Change of plan, Finch," John informed the man on the other end of the line as they ran. "Have Shaw meet us outside; we're coming out hot!" Suddenly, a shot rang out and John grunted in pain as he fell forward.

"John?" Mac asked, pausing as he turned to help the man who was helping him. "You're shot!"

"I'll be fine," John grunted. "Vest took the brunt of it," he explained as MacGyver gave him a very confused look. "Look out!" he said, pointing behind Mac. The blond was too slow as he turned to fight, and his cheek was introduced to a very strong punch, knocking the young man to the ground. Before he could get up again, two men were grabbing his arms tightly, hauling him to his feet. He struggled a little bit, but another punch to his midsection had him doubling over, wheezing and gasping for breath.

Mac watched as John was also hauled to his feet. "He's got a vest on," one of the men called out. Someone immediately smashed the butt of their gun into the older man's face, and his head dropped, his body sagging as he lost consciousness. Mac watched as a car screeched to a halt in front of them. The back doors were thrown open and John was tossed in unceremoniously. As soon as the older man was secured in the back, another man turned and rammed his fist into MacGyver's cheek again. The young man's head jerked to the side, and he spit a bit of blood out of his mouth as he glared at the men holding him. He saw the man in front of him raise his gun, and he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact he knew was coming.

The gun hit, and the next thing he saw was darkness.

Jack's phone began ringing, and he recognized the ringtone as his boss's, Patricia Thornton. "Heya Patty," he answered as he popped a few chips into his mouth. He was sitting on his couch, his ankle propped up as he watched a movie.

"Jack," his boss greeted. Jack could never tell with her over the phone (or in person most times, for that matter) what her mood actually was, but from her tone, she didn't sound happy.

"What's goin' on?" he asked cautiously. "Whatever it was, it was definitely Mac," he added.

"It's actually MacGyver that I'm calling about," Thornton replied. "You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

Jack got an unsettled feeling in his gut. "New York," he said. "But you already know that, so why are you asking me?"

"What makes you think I would know why Mac is in New York?" Thornton asked. Jack was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Because you sent him there," he explained. "You called him and informed him that Frederick Fischer was coming into New York and that you needed him to do a bit of recon, see what he could find out before your second team arrived to pick him up."

There was silence on the other end of the line for almost thirty seconds before Thornton spoke again. "Jack, I never sent MacGyver out on a mission, and Fischer is still in Germany. We have agents watching him remotely now," she replied. Jack's eyes grew wide as the implications of Thornton's words hit him.

"Wait, if it wasn't you who sent him, who was it?" he asked, throwing his chips onto the table and forcing his way to his feet.

"I don't know," Thornton replied. "But what I do know is that we were trying to track him, but his phone connection was cut off, meaning he forgot to take his charger, or…"

"Or something probably happened to his phone," Jack finished gravely. "And if something happened to his phone, chances are something's happened to him. He was supposed to check in with me every two hours, and he's an hour overdue," he added.

"We need to find out what's happening in New York," Thornton stated. "How soon can you get to the Foundation?"

"I'm already out the door," Jack replied. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

 _ **I mean... at least these cliffies aren't as bad as some of my others have been, right? :D**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Not mine... :(**_

A few light slaps on his cheek had MacGyver shaking himself out of the realm of unawareness, and he looked around, trying to remember what had happened. "Welcome back," a harsh voice said. Mac squinted his eyes as he looked upwards, trying to block out the bright light on the ceiling. He finally found the man who had spoken, but Mac didn't recognize him at all. He pulled on his arms only to find that they had been taped down to the arms of the chair he was sitting on. The odd thing was that his arms were bound with his palms facing up. The scratch on his arm from the bullet had started throbbing, but the pain was minimal, so Mac shoved it to the back of his mind.

He glanced over to his companion, John, who was also awake and staring at the men surrounding them, a calm look in his eye. Mac wasn't sure what the man was thinking, but after seeing him in action, the young Phoenix agent was sure he was thinking of how he would be able to take these men down with the least effort possible. John's arms were bound in a similar style to Mac's. Mac could see John pulling at his restraints subtly, trying to loosen them at all. MacGyver began doing the same, only doing it when he was sure he wasn't being observed by one of the men guarding them.

A door to the side of them was opened, and a man in slacks and a light blue polo shirt strode in, holding Mac's Swiss Army Knife in his hands, turning it over and over absentmindedly as he observed the two prisoners. MacGyver and John immediately stopped pulling on their bindings, but from what Mac could see, John had actually managed to wear his down quite a bit.

"The legendary 'Man in the Suit,'" the man said as he approached them. John said nothing as he looked up at the man, his face an unreadable mask. The man studied John for a minute more before finally turning his attention to the young blond. "And Mr. MacGyver," he said. "You've made our work rather more difficult than it's needed to be in recent months, and the boys back home gave us the green light to take care of you. After today, you won't be causing any more trouble."

"What are you talking about?" Mac asked in confusion. "Who are you? Who do you work for?"

The man regarded him with a calculating look, then shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't matter if you know or not. My name is Oliver Mason. I work for a the Homicide International Trust, or HIT for short," he explained. "You are the cause of so many of our assassination attempts failing, and you always seem to be showing up at the worst possible time," Oliver continued, glaring at MacGyver. The young man shrugged helplessly.

"Sorry you're upset," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "But if I stopped your assassinations, I'm not going to apologize for that," he said matter-of-factly.

"You may not be sorry now," the man conceded. "But you will be." Oliver pulled out a syringe, slipping Mac's knife into his pocket. He flicked the side of the syringe, holding it up to eye level. "This was designed with you specifically in mind," he informed the young man.

"Lucky me," Mac muttered as he watched the man come closer with wary eyes. "It wasn't Thornton that called me, was it?" he asked. Oliver shook his head.

"It's actually rather easy to spoof a call from someone's phone, and then we just had one of our female agents pretend to be your boss," Mason explained. "We've studied you and the other Phoenix agents closely; we know how you guys speak, act, how you think." After a minute of gloating, Oliver held up the syringe again. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

"How about let's not and say we did?" MacGyver suggested. Oliver smirked, depressing the syringe a little to get the excess air out of the tool. Mac pulled against the tape binding his arms with renewed fervor, yanking and tugging. He felt the tape give a little, but it wasn't enough to give him room to get away.

Oliver approached him, and someone grabbed his arm, rolling his shirt sleeve up and exposing the crook of his elbow. Oliver began lowering the syringe towards the unprotected skin, but before he could inject MacGyver, there was a loud ruckus outside the door. Guards were yelling, there were shots being fired, and strangely enough Mac could have sworn he heard a dog barking. Oliver paused where he was at and stared at the door, confusion on his face.

Without warning, John suddenly yanked his arms up, tearing the tape that he had managed to wear down. He began fighting with the men around him, and MacGyver took the opportunity to bring his knee up, smashing it in between Oliver Mason's legs, bringing the man crashing to the ground. He felt a small amount of satisfaction, but he forgot to take into account the man standing behind him. He remembered the man very quickly when an arm was wrapped around his neck, cutting off his oxygen supply.

The pressure was soon relieved though, and he gulped in a deep breath of air, his vision focusing on John as he kicked Oliver in the face, knocking the man unconscious.

"Thanks," MacGyver said after John slit through the tape on the young man's wrists with his Swiss Army Knife before handing the knife back to its proper owner.

"Don't mention it," John said, reaching out and grabbing the last man trying to run away without looking at him. The door opened and a dark-haired woman walked in, led by a very eager dog. "Hey Bear!" John said, a small smile spreading across his face as he knelt down in front of the dog, who immediately began licking John's face.

"Gee John," the woman complained. "Don't leave any for me!"

"Well technically this one is still conscious," John said, shaking the arm of the man he had caught earlier. "But," he interrupted, holding up his hand as the woman's face began to light up. "We need them all alive," he cautioned. The woman rolled her eyes before throwing her fist into the man's face. The last member of the HIT team went limp, and John dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor. The dog, Bear, began growling at the men on the ground, but a command in a foreign language from John had the dog sitting and wagging his tail at John, MacGyver and the newcomer.

"John?" a new voice called from the hallway.

"In here, Joss," John replied. Two more people hurried into the room, a man and a woman.

"Finch contacted us," the woman explained, glancing over at MacGyver for a moment before turning her attention back to the man in front of her. "Fusco and I started over here before calling it in, so that should give you a few minutes to get away," she continued. MacGyver stared for a minute before noticing the badges clipped to the newcomer's belts.

"NYPD?" he asked. Everyone looked at him. "You do have a wide assortment of friends, John," he commented. John simply nodded before he turned back to the Detective in front of him.

"Carter, these men work for an organization called HIT, or Homicide International Trust," John explained.

"HIT?" the first woman asked. Everyone looked at her.

"Shaw?" John asked in his quiet voice. "Do you know something about the group?"

Shaw nodded. "When I was working for Control, there was always a rumour going around about a group of assassins targeting high-profile people. Their existence was never confirmed, but I knew there was something going on," she said.

"Homicide International Trust?" the other man, Fusco, asked. "Who names these things?" The man had a thick New York accent, and MacGyver's first impression of the man was that he was slightly fidgety, and seemed somewhat out of place compared to the rest of the group.

"I don't know, but I know that we're going to have to have full cars," Carter stated as she stared at the men on the floor. "There are more here than I thought there would be. We may need to call in extra backup," she said.

"And we should get out of here," Shaw said as they heard sirens getting closer.

"Agreed," John replied. He looked at MacGyver. "You stay here with Carter and Fusco. They're going to need your statement," he said.

"I get the feeling you want me to leave anything about you out?" Mac asked.

"You'll give your statement to us," Carter interrupted. "We'll make sure to leave any mention of John or Shaw out of the report," she assured John as she looked back to him.

"Thanks," John said before he and Shaw quietly slipped out the door, the dog following behind them. MacGyver looked at Detective Carter as the rest of the police started to pour into the room less than thirty seconds later.

"Do you mind if I use your phone?" he asked. The woman pulled out her phone and handed it over to the young blond. MacGyver opened the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart.

Jack was sitting on the seat of the private plane staring out a window, with Patricia Thornton sitting across from him while other agents were scattered around the rest of the plane. The pilot had just announced that they would be landing in New York within ten minutes, and Jack was trying his best not to jiggle his leg in impatience. He was failing.

"Jack," Thornton finally said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Hm?" he asked, looking over at her. She pointedly stared at his bouncing leg, and he glanced down as if only just realizing he was doing it. "Sorry," he said, putting a hand on his knee to try and stop it.

"How are you even able to do that without hurting your ankle?" Thornton asked after a moment. Jack shrugged.

"It's the other ankle that's hurt?" he offered as a possible explanation. Thornton's reply was cut off when Jack's phone began ringing. He picked it up, seeing it was an incoming call from New York. He hesitated answering, but something told him he should see who was on the other line. He accepted the call, holding it up to his ear. "This is Jack Dalton," he greeted.

"Jack!" a familiar voice came on.

"MacGyver?!" Jack exclaimed, sitting up ramrod straight in his seat. Thornton leaned forward, eyes questioning, so Jack put the call on speaker. "Hey buddy, you're on speaker; Thornton and I were just bringing the cavalry to come get you. Mac, whoever called you before, that wasn't Th-"

"Wasn't Thornton, yeah," Mac finished. "Yeah, figured that one out the hard way."

The tiredness in Mac's voice concerned Jack. "Hey, everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," Mac assured his friend. "Hey Thornton," he added.

"What's going on, Mac?" she asked, leaning forward a little more so she could speak into the phone better.

"Have you ever heard of the "Homicide International Trust?" he asked. Thornton's eyes narrowed a little when she heard the name.

"I've heard of them, but they were always just rumours. Nothing we were ever able to prove, no evidence to give us anything to go on," she explained.

"Well, apparently they're the ones who grabbed me," Mac said.

"How'd you get out?" Jack asked. "What crazy invention did you come up with this time?"

"It actually wasn't me," Mac said. "There was a...good samaritan who was there; he and his friends helped me out," he finished.

"See, this is why I can't let you go anywhere alone," Jack scolded lightly. "Things happen when I'm not there!"

"Well, you two can argue about this when we land," Thornton interrupted. "Mac, we'll be landing in less than ten minutes. Where are you?"

"I'm at the NYPD 8th Precinct," the young man replied.

"We'll see you there," Thornton said. The call was ended and Jack looked both upset and relieved at the same time. "You know, Jack," Thornton commented. "Usually when people find out their friend is doing alright after being held captive by an international hit group, they tend to be a little more excited."

"I'm glad the kid's okay, I am," Jack insisted. "I just… I shoulda been there," he finally said.

"MacGyver is a grown adult," Patricia reminded Jack gently but firmly. "You aren't going to be able to be there for him every second of every day."

Jack didn't respond; he simply continued to stare out the window as the plane touched down and taxied across the ground, finally coming to a stop. Everyone stood up and made their way for the door, Jack coming in the back on his crutches. He followed the other agents out the door, all the while thinking of things he could do with his crutches to get back at the men who had captured his friend.

MacGyver was standing a few hundred feet away from the building HIT had been holding him and John, staring at it thoughtfully. He was going to need to do a lot of digging into HIT, see where the trail led. He heard soft footsteps approaching from behind, so he wasn't surprised when he heard John's soft voice.

"You doing okay?"

MacGyver turned to face him slightly, nodding his head. He had one arm folded across his stomach, the other arm supporting his chin as he stared ahead.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured the older man. "Don't worry. Believe it or not, this actually is pretty mild compared to some of the things I've been through," he added. John nodded in interest.

"You are a man of many secrets, Mr. MacGyver," he replied. Mac turned to face him fully, holding out his hand.

"Just MacGyver, or Mac," he said, waving his hand. "'Mr.' makes me sound older, more formal," he explained.

"I could just call you Angus," John offered in a light tone. MacGyver rolled his eyes, but he smiled.

"MacGyver or Mac works just fine, thanks," he said.

"I don't know what just happened," Carter said as she approached MacGyver and John. "Some government group just swooped in and took all the HIT members out from under us," she said. Mac didn't say anything, knowing full well who that government group was. John gave a sideways glance to the young man, but didn't say anything.

"Mac!" they heard someone call out. The three of them turned and watched as Jack Dalton hopped his way over, ankle still wrapped heavily.

"Jack, you didn't have to come out to New York," Mac said as his friend finally reached them.

"Yes I did," Jack shot back. "It's my job. And apparently you _do_ need a bodyguard everywhere you go," he added, giving a pointed glance to the bandage wrapped around the bullet graze on Mac's arm. He glanced at the other two strangers, who stared right back at him.

"Jack, this is Detective Carter, and this is John," MacGyver introduced, gesturing to each person as he said their names. They all shook hands, then Jack turned back to MacGyver.

"You ready to get outta here?" he asked. MacGyver nodded.

"Very much so." He turned and shook Carter's hand, then turned to John. "Thank you again," he said. "If there's anything I can do for you, let me know."

"I will," John said as he shook the hand MacGyver offered. "I have a feeling that that's not all of HIT though," John said. MacGyver sighed.

"I know," he replied, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Make sure to watch your back," John cautioned in his quiet voice, his eyes staring straight into Mac's.

"I will. They know your face too, though," he pointed out.

"I have my ways of not being found if I don't want to be," John said, purposefully being vague and mysterious again. "I'm sure you do a good job of looking out for him," John said to Jack, who nodded.

"I try," he said, nudging his friend in the shoulder. "Kid makes it kinda difficult when he runs off to New York without me though," he griped. MacGyver rolled his eyes and gave a helpless shrug.

"Alright, let me tell Thornton that next time she wants to send me out, she has to make sure it's okay with my mom," he quipped.

"I said it earlier, kid," Jack replied, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I am totally fine with you calling me mom, especially if it means you stay alive a little bit longer."

The two men said goodbye to John and Carter again as they turned and walked towards the large black SUV waiting to take them back to the plane.

"Seriously though kid," Jack said as the car took off. MacGyver looked at his older friend. "I'm glad you're safe. If something happened to you, it'd tear me apart, knowing I could have done more, been there faster, tried to-"

"Jack," MacGyver said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, cutting Jack off. "I'm not planning on having anything happen to me, but you have to know that if something ever DID happen to me, I wouldn't blame you. It wouldn't be your fault. Besides," he added. "I can't even seem to go to New York alone and not have a bodyguard show up, so I think we should be good on the whole "keep MacGyver safe" scheme," he said, throwing a quick smile at his friend. Jack returned the smile, and they both settled back into their seats as they drove towards the airport.

 _ **So there's the end of the MacGyver section! Thoughts?**_

 _ **POI is on the other side of that "Next Chapter" button! :D**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Here is the beginning of the POI POV, so enjoy!**_

 _ **Also, so sorry if there appear to be continuity errors. I tried to catch them all, but no one is perfect... :D**_

 _ **No, they still do not belong to me in the three...four chapters that you have read.**_

"Morning Finch," John greeted as he walked into the room with his friend and employer.

"Good morning, Mr. Reese," Finch replied, turning in his chair to watch as his friend set down the drinks he always brought in with him in the mornings.

"I assume we have a new number?" John asked as he took a sip of his drink.

"Indeed we do, Mr. Reese," Harold replied. He hit a few keys on his keyboard before standing up and walking over to the glass and taping a picture up. The face of a young man was smiling back at them.

He was young, no older than twenty-four or twenty-five; he had dirty blond hair and blue eyes, with a nice, wide smile. "Who is he?" John asked when his employer said nothing.

"This is Angus MacGyver. He resides in California where he works for a government think-tank."

"The Machine gave us a number for someone in California?" John questioned with raised eyebrows.

"No, I did some digging and it would appear that Mr. MacGyver has booked a flight out to New York. His plane should be arriving in two hours," Finch explained. The billionaire brought out an envelope from the desk drawer and handed it to John, who opened it and peered inside. He pulled out a key attached to a fob, as well as a piece of plastic with his picture and one of his aliases on it. "I need you to pick him up at the airport; follow him, see where he goes once you drop him off wherever he requests," Finch instructed.

"So I'm a cabbie now?" John asked with a touch of humor in his tone.

"Until you can determine if he is the perpetrator or victim, yes," Finch replied in all seriousness. John accepted the items as Finch continued talking. "I've purchased a cab and got everything registered, so if anything happens to go wrong, everything should appear legitimate," he promised.

"Are you expecting something to go wrong, Finch?" John asked as he turned and headed for the door.

"I have learned that in this line of work, always expect something to go wrong, Mr. Reese. It would be ideal if everything went according to plan, but looking at what we deal with every day…"

"Yeah, got it," John said as he walked out the door. "Boy Scout motto: Always be Prepared."

John idled in his taxi by the side of the road as he watched people moving in and out of the airport doors. He glanced down at the picture of the young man, MacGyver, and kept an eye out for him amidst the crowds coming out. The kid's flight should have gotten in five minutes ago, so John was expecting to see him any minute.

"Mr. Reese?" Finch asked. "Any sign of him?"

"Not yet, Harold," John replied, not taking his eyes off the people coming out of the building. "Hold on," he said suddenly, having spotted the young man. He put the taxi into drive and drove over, pulling to the curb right in front of the man. The back door was opened and the kid got in, giving John an address.

As John pulled away from the airport and merged with the New York traffic, he watched in the rearview mirror as the young man pulled out his phone and texted someone, who seemed to respond almost immediately. He heard MacGyver sigh slightly, and looked up in time to see him slip his phone back in his pocket.

"Everything okay?" John asked as he watched his latest number. The kid looked up when he heard John speak, seeming to study the man slightly before answering.

"Yeah, just fine," Mac said. He didn't sound stressed or upset, so John didn't see a need to push the issue unless he thought things were becoming dangerous.

"So what brings you to New York? Business or pleasure?"

"Business, unfortunately," the man in the backseat replied. John didn't say anything after that, but a few minutes later he pulled up to the front of a rather despondent looking building. John put the car into park, glancing to the side slightly as MacGyver handed up a $20 bill. "Keep the change," he said as he got out of the car.

"Don't work too hard," John replied as he accepted the money. MacGyver smiled at John then shut the car door and walked towards the old building.

"Well, Mr. Reese?" Finch asked when he didn't hear John say anything after a few moments. John sighed as he pulled away from the curb to give MacGyver the appearance that he was leaving.

"I'm not sure, Finch," he admitted. "I just can't see him as the perpetrator, but there is definitely something going on with him; something he's hiding, or not telling," he explained.

"Well, you _were_ just his cabbie," Finch pointed out. John nodded, even though he knew Finch couldn't see him.

"I know, but it's more of his personality that I'm getting that feeling from, like he's hiding something from the world," John replied. He glanced in his rearview mirror, seeing no sign of their latest number.

"Were you able to bluejack his phone?"

"Yes, but so far there hasn't been any activity on it," John responded. He pulled the cab into an empty parking space, turned off the engine and got out of the car. He walked back to where he had dropped the kid off, finding him standing in the mouth of an alleyway and looking down at his phone. John picked a spot across the street, giving him the ability to see the young man that also gave him enough cover that he wouldn't be noticed unless someone was specifically searching for him.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed with nothing out of the ordinary happening. John watched as the young man continued to glance out of the alleyway, up and down the street before turning back to his phone. John checked his watch; it was almost 3:20, and the young man was starting to seem like he was getting fidgety. He left his alleway and walked up and down the street a little ways before going back to his original spot. John watched MacGyver pull out his phone, but he was more interested in the red dot that appeared on the kid's shirt.

John took off from his hiding spot without another moment of thought. He rammed himself into MacGyver, knocking them both to the ground right before a shot rang out, hitting the spot where MacGyver had been mere seconds before. He heard something crunch underneath them, figuring it was the kid's cellphone, but he didn't care as he got to his feet and hauled MacGyver further out of sight.

"Mr. Reese? What's going on?" Finch's voice came on over the coms. "Was that a gunshot?"

John watched out of the corner of his eye as he saw MacGyver do a double take. "You were...the taxi driver?" he asked in confusion.

John kept his gun up, peering around the corner where they had hidden. "Finch, I definitely don't think this kid is the perp," he muttered.

"Wait, who are you?" MacGyver asked.

"Concerned third party," John replied, a bit distractedly. People always asked him that, and he learned it was just easier to reply with that answer rather than trying to explain everything. "Come on," he said, standing up and gently pushing MacGyver towards a fire escape. "We need to get out of sight." They started climbing up, while John constantly glanced behind them with his gun at the ready. They went up a few flights of stairs before Finch began talking again.

"Mr. Reese," he said. "I've accessed the cameras of the buildings surrounding you, and it looks like men are headed your way. They'll be in the alleyway in a minute or less. You have to get out of sight" he informed the ex-CIA agent. John held out his arm, stopping MacGyver from climbing any further. The young man looked at him in confusion.

"Hold on," John said. "We need to get out of the open," he explained. He looked down at where they had come up, grateful to that no one had entered the alley yet. He slipped his gun into the back of his pants, letting his suit coat fall over and cover it. He reached into his inner coat pocket and grabbed his lock-picking set and went about trying to unlock the window. It only took him a few moments to get the window unlocked, but when he opened it he cursed under his breath. "There's a screen," he muttered, both in response to MacGyver's confused look and Finch's questioning voice in his ear.

He was slightly surprised when MacGyver gently squeezed his way past and pulled a red Swiss Army Knife out of his pocket. John watched as the kid brought out the blade and sliced through the screen like butter, making an opening wide enough for each of them to slip through. John let MacGyver go through first, glancing behind him one last time to make sure no one had come into the alley.

"So are you gonna tell me your name?" MacGyver whispered as John came in behind him.

"John," the ex-CIA agent finally replied as he walked briskly towards the door.

"I'm MacGyver, but I have the strange feeling you already knew that." John opened the door and didn't bother replying. He looked up and down the hallway a few times before finally creeping out and motioning for MacGyver to follow suit. The two of them carefully crept down the hall, past an elevator and towards the stairwell. They were almost to the door when it was flung open and six men poured out, each one training a large gun on MacGyver and John.

"Elevator," John instructed curtly as he pulled out his own gun and ducked into a shallow doorway. He fired his weapon, trying to draw their fire away from the young man. It worked to some extent. The men turned their attention to John, but he realized he was running out of bullets, and though he had a few spare magazines, he knew he didn't have near the firepower these men did. "Finch, sending backup would be great," he grunted as he ducked behind a wall. He peered around the corner and fired off a few more rounds, hitting some of the men in the knees and making them collapse in agony.

"I've already alerted Ms. Shaw," Reese replied. "She should be to your location in a few minutes."

"John!" Reese turned around as he heard MacGyver yell his name and saw the young man standing inside the elevator. John hurried towards the elevator, firing a few more shots to keep the other gunmen at bay. He got into the elevator and watched MacGyver frantically hit the "close door button." The doors finally began sliding shut, but before they closed completely John watched as one of the men raised his gun and fired off a single shot.

"I gotta say," John commented, pushing the P1 button for the elevator. "You're handling being targeted very well." When the young man only grunted in reply, John turned around to look at his new companion. "You were hit?" he asked suddenly as he observed the red stain spreading on the number's upper arm. MacGyver gripped it tightly, trying to get the bleeding to stop.

"I'm fine," Mac insisted. "It's just a scratch."

John was about to reply when the elevator shuddered and then lurched to a stop. The two men gazed up towards the ceiling, a sinking feeling in both of their stomachs.

"Finch?" John asked, glancing up towards the camera in the corner of the elevator. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure, Mr. Reese," Harold said. John could hear frantic typing in the background.

"Well, can you get it moving and get the doors open?"

"I'm trying, Mr. Reese," Finch replied.

John began looking around the elevator to see if there was anything he could use to pry the door open, and he happened to glance at the young blond who had opened a panel on the side of the elevator, exposing a bunch of wires. MacGyver let out a huff as he observed what as in front of him.

"Well, they certainly managed to make this more difficult," John heard MacGyver mutter. The blond reached out and started fiddling with the wires, and John saw him wince as his wounded arm stretched out.

"Make it more difficult?" John asked. "That looks a little bit more than 'difficult,'" he pointed out. There were so many wires and so many different colors, John wasn't sure what went where.

"It's actually a simple matter of figuring out what wire went where actually," Finch piped up.

"Well, they pulled all the wires out of their place, but they didn't destroy them, at least not completely; I just need to connect the right wires and I should be able to get the door open," MacGyver explained as he examined the wires. "The trick is figuring out which wire goes where."

John was about to respond when the elevator shuddered and dropped a few feet. "How fast can you do that?" he asked the young man.

"It shouldn't take too long," Mac said, reaching in and grabbing a few wires.

"I don't know if we have that much time," John pointed out as the elevator shuddered once again. "Finch?"

"I'm still trying to get the doors open, Mr. Reese," Finch said. He didn't sound angry or upset, but John could hear a slight strain in the billionaire's voice as he worked on his end to get the door open for them.

MacGyver glanced back at John. "Who is Finch?" he asked as he started sorting the different wires.

"He's-" John was cut off as the elevator groaned. "Let's save introductions for later," he suggested. "Finch, if you can do anything to get the doors open, now would be the time to do it," he said, glancing up at the camera.

"Got it!" MacGyver said, hitting two wires together. The doors slid open, revealing their next dilemma. The elevator was caught in between two floors. The two men stared out the door, each one going through their list of options. Mac cautiously crept closer to the opening. "Think we could crawl down?" he asked, looking back at John. The older man opened his mouth and was about to respond when the elevator convulsed again.

Time seemed to slow down to John. He saw the walls starting to slip by as the elevator began to fall, and he knew he had to act. "We're about to find out!" he grunted as he rammed himself into the blond. The two of them tumbled out of the elevator doors and crashed to the ground outside. John rolled over and stood up, watching MacGyver, whose eyes were as wide as saucers. The young man scrambled to his feet and hurried to the doors, which were still open. After staring down the elevator shaft, he turned back to John.

"Someone cut through the cables," he said, pointing towards the shaft. John walked over and looked down as well, seeing the distant, ruined remains of the elevator.

"Best way to go is down," John said in his quiet voice. He led Mac down the hallway cautiously, checking the stairwells again before giving the young blond the OK to start down the stairs behind him.

"Are you going to tell me what it is you do?" Mac asked. John looked back at him.

"I help people," John stated simply. "What about you?" he asked, turning the conversation onto MacGyver before the young man could press anymore. "You work at a government think-tank, but I'm thinking you do more than sit around and talk about the economy and ways to improve social well-being," he remarked.

"Really?" Mac asked sarcastically. "What gave it away? The mercenaries trying to kill us?" John looked back at Mac again, eyebrows raised at him. "Sorry," Mac said. "I forgot for a minute that you're not my partner, Jack. My work...It's...complicated," he finally said.

"You don't say," John muttered. He heard MacGyver chuckle, but he decided not to say anything else. They hurried down the rest of the stairs in silence, coming to the parking garage a few minutes later. "Finch, we're in the parking garage, east side," John muttered as the two of them walked in between the cars.

"Ms. Shaw is almost there. I'll tell her where to meet you," Finch responded.

"Good, we'll be on the lookout for her," John said, beginning to lead MacGyver through the parking garage, weaving in between cars.

"Who?" Mac asked.

"A friend," John replied. He failed to notice the young man roll his eyes, because at that moment, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something was wrong. John put his arm out in front of the young man again, stopping MacGyver in his tracks. "Something's not right," he muttered. A few tense moments passed before John knew they were in trouble "Get down!" he suddenly ordered, turning and shoving down on MacGyver's shoulders so the young man was pushed to the ground. John pulled out his gun and fired two shots, capping the men in the knees and dropping them to the ground. Their groans were lost on him as he continued firing at the approaching men. He barely noticed MacGyver open the door of the car they were hiding behind as he continued to fire.

A click when he pulled the trigger again alerted him to the fact that his magazine was finally out, and he reached into his pocket, grabbing one of the extra mags he kept there, ejecting the empty one and inserting the full clip into the gun. Bullets were pinging off the car, making John duck so he avoided being hit, but suddenly MacGyver was coming out of the car with...an airbag?

"John, cover your mouth!" the kid shouted. John didn't know what MacGyver was doing, but he immediately did as he was told and he watched as the 'think-tank' agent flung the airbag around, spewing the contents into the faces of their attackers. They all immediately started choking and coughing on whatever was inside the airbag, and that gave the two men enough time to run towards the exit.

"Change of plan, Finch," John informed the man on the other end of the line as they ran. "Have Shaw meet us outside; we're coming out hot!" Suddenly, a shot rang out and John grunted in pain as he fell forward. There was a crushing pressure coming from his chest, and John grasped at his front as he tried to relieve the pressure.

"John?" MacGyver asked, pausing as he turned to help John. "You're shot!"

"I'll be fine," John grunted. "Vest took the brunt of it," he explained as MacGyver gave him a very confused look. "Look out!" he said, pointing behind MacGyver. The kid was too slow though, and John watched as a fist connected solidly with the kid's cheek, spinning him and throwing him to the ground. John tried to get up, gritting his teeth against the pressure in his chest, but before he could get up, strong hands grabbed him and dragged him to his feet. Someone patted him down, removing his gun and extra clips before turning to talk to someone he couldn't see.

"He's got a vest on," the man called out. Without further ado, someone smashed the butt of their gun into John's face, making the ex-CIA agent go limp as he was sent to the realm of unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

John's eyes fluttered open a little at a time. He kept his head down for a minute, observing as much as he could without lifting his head. He counted four guys in the room with them, two standing guard over him and MacGyver. He also saw that his arms were tied to the chair he was in with tape.

John decided he needed to see what was going on more fully, so he finally lifted his head up and looked around. The men guarding him didn't say anything, but they did leer at him as he looked around. When they finally looked away, John began subtly rubbing his arms back and forth, beginning to wear down at the tape holding his arms.

John watched as someone walked over to MacGyver and give him a few light slaps. The kid's head jerked back and he shook his head, glancing around as he took in his surroundings. A door to the side of them was opened, and a man in slacks and a light blue polo shirt strode in, holding Mac's Swiss Army Knife in his hands, turning it over and over absentmindedly as he observed the two prisoners.

"The legendary 'Man in the Suit,'" the man said as he approached them. John said nothing as he looked up at the man, his face an unreadable mask. The two of them studied each other for a minute more before polo-shirt finally turned his attention to back the young blond. "And Mr. MacGyver," he said. "You've made our work rather more difficult than it's needed to be in recent months, and the boys back home gave us the green light to take care of you. After today, you won't be causing any more trouble."

"What are you talking about?" Mac asked in confusion. "Who are you? Who do you work for?"

The man regarded him with a calculating look, then shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't matter if you know or not. My name is Oliver Mason. I work for a the Homicide International Trust, or HIT for short," he explained. John mentally filed both names away, intending to ask Harold about it if and when they got out of this mess. "You are the cause of so many of our assassination attempts failing, and you always seem to be showing up at the worst possible time," Oliver continued, glaring at MacGyver. The young man shrugged helplessly.

"Sorry you're upset," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "But if I stopped your assassinations, I'm not going to apologize for that," he said matter-of-factly.

"You may not be sorry now," the man conceded. "But you will be." Oliver pulled out a syringe, slipping Mac's knife into his pocket. He flicked the side of the syringe, holding it up to eye level. "This was designed with you specifically in mind," he informed the young man.

"Lucky me," Mac muttered as he watched the man come closer with wary eyes. "It wasn't Thornton that called me, was it?" he asked. Oliver shook his head.

"It's actually rather easy to spoof a call from someone's phone, and then we just had one of our female agents pretend to be your boss," Mason explained. "We've studied you and the other Phoenix agents closely; we know how you guys speak, act, how you think." After a minute of gloating, Oliver held up the syringe again. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

"How about let's not and say we did?" MacGyver suggested. Oliver smirked, depressing the syringe a little to get the excess air out of the tool. John watched as MacGyver pulled against the tape binding his arms with renewed fervor, yanking and tugging.

Oliver approached the young man, and John watched as someone grabbed Mac's arm, rolling his shirt sleeve up and exposing the crook of his elbow. Oliver began lowering the syringe towards the unprotected skin, but before he could inject MacGyver, there was a loud ruckus outside the door. Guards were yelling, there were shots being fired, and John heard the familiar deep-throated bark of his favorite Belgian Malinois. Oliver paused where he was at and stared at the door, confusion on his face.

That was just the distraction John needed. He yanked upwards on his arms, ripping the tape he had managed to wear down. He immediately stood up and grabbed his chair, smashing it into the guards surrounding him. They fell, and he looked over at MacGyver to see how the kid was faring.

John saw that Oliver was on the ground, but a large, beefy man had wrapped his elbow around the kid's neck, and now MacGyver's face was turning a deeper and deeper shade of red with each passing second. John lunged forward and bowled into the large man, knocking him away from MacGyver. They both collided with the wall, but since the other guy was in front of John, not only did he provide a cushion for the ex-CIA agent but he was almost immediately knocked unconscious as well.

Not wasting a second, John hurried over and kicked Oliver Means in the face, effectively knocking the man out. He kicked the syringe away from the man's hand as he knelt down, feeling around in his pockets for MacGyver's knife and pulling it out.

"Thanks," MacGyver said after John slit through the tape on the young man's wrists with his Swiss Army Knife before handing the knife back to its proper owner.

"Don't mention it," John replied, reaching out and grabbing the last man trying to run away without looking at him. The door opened and Sameen Shaw walked in, led by a very eager dog. "Hey Bear!" John said, a small smile spreading across his face as he knelt down in front of the dog, who immediately began licking John's face.

"Gee John," Shaw complained. "Don't leave any for me!"

"Well technically this one is still conscious," John said, shaking the arm of the man he had caught earlier. "But," he interrupted, holding up his hand as Shaw's face began to light up. "We need them all alive," he cautioned. She rolled her eyes before throwing her fist into the man's face. The last member of the HIT team went limp, and John dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor. Bear, began growling at the men on the ground, but John commanded something in Dutch and soon the dog was sitting and wagging his tail at John, MacGyver and the Shaw.

"John?" a new, familiar voice called from the hallway.

"In here, Joss," John replied. Detectives Fusco and Carter hurried into the room, guns drawn and in front of them as they observed the scene before them.

"Finch contacted us," Carter explained, glancing over at MacGyver for a moment before turning her attention back to the man in front of her. "Fusco and I started over here before calling it in, so that should give you a few minutes to get away," she continued.

"NYPD?" MacGyver's voice suddenly asked. "You do have a wide assortment of friends, John," he commented. John simply nodded before he turned back to the Detective in front of him.

"Carter, these men work for an organization called HIT, or Homicide International Trust," John explained.

"HIT?" Shaw asked. Everyone looked at her.

"Shaw?" John asked in his quiet voice. "Do you know something about the group?"

Shaw nodded. "When I was working for Control, there was always a rumour going around about a group of assassins targeting high-profile people. Their existence was never confirmed, but I knew there was something going on," she said.

"Homicide International Trust?" Fusco, asked. "Who names these things?"

"I don't know, but I know that we're going to have to have full cars," Carter stated as she stared at the men on the floor. "There are more here than I thought there would be. These five in here, then the four Shaw took out in the hallway; we may need to call in extra backup," she said.

"And we should get out of here," Shaw said to John as she heard sirens getting closer.

"Agreed," John replied. He looked at MacGyver. "You stay here with Carter and Fusco. They're going to need your statement," he said.

"I get the feeling you want me to leave anything about you out?" Mac asked.

"You'll give your statement to us," Carter interrupted. "We'll make sure to leave any mention of John or Shaw out of the report," she assured John as she looked back to him.

"Thanks," John said before he and Shaw quietly slipped out the door, Bear following behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Okay! Here's the last chapter for it ALL!**_

 _ **Sadly, still not mine.**_

"Another job well done, Mr. Reese," Finch said as Reese and Shaw walked into the room. "I'm glad to see you back in one piece," he added.

"Finch, could you do some research on HIT?" John asked.

"I've already begun. Ms. Shaw contacted me with the name, asking me to look into it. I've got searches running, but it may take a while. From what I've gathered though, it's an extensive organization, deeply rooted in society. It seems they have friends with deep pockets."

"Are you talking about high-power political friends?" John asked in clarification.

"I have no definitive proof, but it wouldn't surprise me," Finch replied.

"The rumor was that they only accepted contracts on hits over a $100k," Shaw added. John's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.

"So someone with _very_ deep pockets," he muttered. His phone vibrated and he looked at the text. "It's from Carter," he said. He slipped his phone back into his pockets. "I'll see you guys later," he said as he turned and walked out of the room.

John walked over to where Carter had texted him to meet her and MacGyver. He saw the young blond standing off to the side of the street, staring at the building he and John had been held in, a few hundred feet ahead of him.

"You doing okay?" John asked quietly as he walked up behind the kid. MacGyver turned to face him slightly, nodding his head. He had one arm folded across his stomach, the other arm supporting his chin as he stared ahead.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured the older man. "Don't worry. Believe it or not, this actually is pretty mild compared to some of the things I've been through," he added. John nodded in interest.

"You are a man of many secrets, Mr. MacGyver," he replied. Mac turned to face him fully, holding out his hand.

"Just MacGyver, or Mac," he said, waving his hand. "'Mr.' makes me sound older, more formal," he explained.

"I could just call you Angus," John offered in a light tone, smiling slightly as he saw MacGyver roll his eyes.

"MacGyver or Mac works just fine, thanks," he said.

"I don't know what just happened," Carter said as she approached the two men. "Some government group just swooped in and took all the HIT members out from under us," she explained. John gave a sideways glance to the young man, but didn't say anything. He had a feeling that he knew which government group it was, but he wasn't going to say anything.

"Mac!" they heard someone call out. The three of them turned and watched as a man on crutches hopped his way over to them. The man was wearing jeans and a dark grey t-shirt, and John noticed that one of his ankles was heavily wrapped.

"Jack, you didn't have to come out to New York," MacGyver said as the newcomer finally reached them.

"Yes I did," Jack shot back. "It's my job. And apparently you _do_ need a bodyguard everywhere you go," he added, giving a pointed glance to the bandage wrapped around the bullet graze on Mac's arm. He glanced at John and Carter, who stared right back at him.

"Jack, this is Detective Carter, and this is John," MacGyver introduced, gesturing to each person as he said their names. They all shook hands, then Jack turned back to MacGyver.

"You ready to get outta here?" he asked. MacGyver nodded.

"Very much so." He turned and shook Carter's hand, then turned to John. "Thank you again," he said. "If there's anything I can do for you, let me know."

"I will," John said as he shook the hand MacGyver offered. "I have a feeling that that's not all of HIT though," John said. MacGyver sighed.

"I know," he replied, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Make sure to watch your back," John cautioned in his quiet voice, his eyes staring straight into Mac's.

"I will. They know your face too, though," he pointed out.

"I have my ways of not being found if I don't want to be," John said, purposefully being vague and mysterious again. He turned to MacGyver's friend. "I'm sure you do a good job of looking out for him," John said to Jack, who nodded.

"I try," he said, nudging his friend in the shoulder. "Kid makes it kinda difficult when he runs off to New York without me though," he griped. MacGyver rolled his eyes and gave a helpless shrug.

"Alright, let me tell Thornton that next time she wants to send me out, she has to make sure it's okay with my mom," he quipped.

"I said it earlier, kid," Jack replied, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I am totally fine with you calling me mom, especially if it means you stay alive a little bit longer."

The two men said goodbye to John and Carter again as they turned and walked towards the large black SUV idling by the curb. John turned to Joss.

"Thank you for coming," he said.

"Well from what it looks like, you didn't need all that much help," she griped in a joking tone. "But you're welcome. Oh," she added, pulling a phone out from her back pocket. "Fusco found this in one of the men's pockets; recognized it as yours, and figured you probably needed it back," she said as she handed it over.

"Thanks," John said as he accepted his phone. No sooner had he taken the device than it began ringing in his hand. He sighed before accepting the call. "Hello, Harold," he said.

"Mr. Reese, I'm afraid we have another number," Finch said.

"Why does that not surprise me?" John muttered. "I'll be back in a few minutes then," he promised before hanging up the call. "Gotta get back to work," he said as he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket.

"Yeah well, call _before_ everything goes crazy, will ya?" Carter requested, only half joking.

"When are things never not crazy, Joss?" John asked lightly as he turned and walked back the way he had come.

 _ **Okay...what did y'all think?**_

 ** _Again, sorry for any errors I made if you found any, be it continuity or grammar/spelling etc... just let me know and I'll go in and fix it :)_**

 ** _Tamuril2, did it live up to expectations? :D_**

 ** _Also, I am always up to take prompts :) As shown by how patient Tamuril2 has been (put down that bazooka, child!), it may take me a while to write them, but if I think I can pull off the prompt, I will try!_**

 ** _Let me know what you think!_**


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